


Wasn't Sure Why

by jehanjetaime



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Prostitution, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 18:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanjetaime/pseuds/jehanjetaime
Summary: In a world gone bad, Jamie Fawkes and Mako Rutledge do what they have to in order to survive. Even if that includes a little break to heal a cold.This is just a little scene of prostitute Junkrat falling ill that came from a larger piece I never finished.





	Wasn't Sure Why

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the summary, this comes from a larger piece I will probably never finish. This bit, however, seemed to stand okay on its own.
> 
> Enjoy!

“He’s tired,” Mako said, shoving one thick arm between his oddly silent companion and an approaching man. An approaching customer on any other day, but on this day, Jamie was looking...tired. Out of sorts. And between them on this dirty bench in their filthy town, his hand was gripping the end of Mako’s belt with severity.

Touching was not part of their deal. Jamie made the money, Mako played the muscle, and they split it down the middle so they would be able to leave and go their separate ways sooner rather than struggling on their own and dying in this hellish excuse for a community. No one would work with Mako because he was too intimidating; no one trusted him not to fuck them over. No one worked with Jamie because he was off the wall - which many people said was a direct result of the dangerous work he did. The dangerous work this man wanted him to do. 

“Thought you were just his muscle,” the guy said, looking at the way Mako shielded Jamie, who wasn’t even looking at him. This guy was one of Jamie’s usual customers, and lately the way Jamie came from meetings with him covered in bruises bothered Mako. It had never bothered him before. Why should it? “Not his pimp.”

That REALLY bothered him. Mako stood up, his whole 7 foot, 3 inch height on display. “He’s tired,” Mako repeated. He did not like having to repeat himself. His hand went to the weapon at his hip and the man furrowed his brows. After spitting an obscenity, the man turned on his heel and left. 

Mako sat back down, the brick behind him pleasantly rough and warm against his back. They were just sitting, quietly, after Jamie had stopped mid-stride and said, ‘Need to stop a minute.’ He had already been so odd all day, and Mako’s lungs were burning from the filthy air, so Mako had just nodded and followed James over to an ancient bench in the sun. There they had been and there they would be until someone kicked them out or one of them got up and wandered away. It would most likely be Jamie - he called the shots, unless they were mistakes and Mako vetoed them. But for the most part, Mako didn’t care WHAT he did, so he just let Jamie do as he pleased until someone required his services.

Even though he was surprised when Jamie leaned against his arm. Just his forehead, but he was there. Then two thin hands, one fleshy and organic, one metal and complex, folded over Mako’s own. “I don’t feel good, Mako…”

That tugged at something in Mako, something he thought was long dead. Something that made him lean towards the other man. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

For Jamie to want to go home...something was very wrong indeed.

 

* * *

They were Junkrat and Roadhog, two among the filthy masses of their terrible town, but they were different.

They wanted out. That was their tying factor - both of them wanted out to live a better life somewhere else. Where was it better? Mako didn’t know. Jamie’s answer was always ‘Anywhere other than here.’ Jamie had once been a successful mechanic, fixing anything from cars to watches to the toys of the few children around. But life here had not been kind to him, and now he was Junkrat - a failure who had resorted to the world’s oldest profession after it was found that he was overcharging people, stealing parts so they had to come back, and sometimes straight up stealing things. 

To put it simply - Jamie’s limbs had all been organic. After he became Junkrat, he had his prosthetics for his right limbs. Or, because he now needed the prosthetics, he BECAME Junkrat. Before, he had still been wild, still be joyful, still been a little off-the-wall. After that, he was worse. Loud, crazy, but taking risks - jobs no one else in his profession would, odd jobs for money, just making decisions that anyone would call insane. The man almost died nightly. But he wanted out, and that was where Mako came in.

Mako’s story wasn’t important. He had a girlfriend, then he didn’t. Woke up one morning to an infant daughter on his steps. Four years later, he was alone again and no one dared asked what had happened to little Aroha. Once there was no longer the little pitter patter of tiny feet around Mako’s house, he became Roadhog.

He would pretend that was how he preferred it. What he did not prefer was the way that Jamie trembled against him. They were home - the small shack they shares just on the outside of town, and when he had made the thinned man sit, Jamie had pulled Mako down to sit with him.

Jamie was shaking. His hand on Mako’s arm was clammy. The rest of him was warm - too warm. 

“You’re sick,” Mako said. “What happened?"

“Ain’t sick,” Jamie said. “Just need to rest.”

Mako huffed and looked around. They had blankets, somewhere, and he only found himself wondering why he cared when he had gotten up and gone to get the blanket from his bed. He returned to the couch and threw the blanket at Jamie. 

“Not workin’ tomorrow,” he grunted.

“Wha’?” Jamie, who was covered completely by the large blanket, pulled it from his head. “Nah mate, nah - I gotta. Don’t wanna miss out when we had that big wreck!”

He laughed, but it was raw. Mako glanced over at the side of their shack, where some drunk or another had plowed into the side of their house then driven off with one of their walls still attached to his bumper. That had taken a lot of lumber to fix, and a lot of lumber cost a lot of coin. Jamie coughed once, then again, until it filled the house.

“Not workin’ tomorrow,” was all he said, before disappearing into the room that hardly counted as a kitchen.  Jamies called out after him but he didn’t listen. Mako wasn’t sure why, but he dug out a metal pan and slapped it on their dilapidated stove. It took him a couple tries and more than one kick to get that damn stove to light, but he did. 

Mako moved over to see if they had any tea left. Jamie liked that nasty milk tea he got sometimes, but when he was sick he needed real tea. Mako just didn’t want him whining, and knew that he needed to get better so he could keep working and they could keep going. If Jamie died from something stupid and Mako had to start over from scratch, he was going to be pissed. Better to do a little work now than a lot of work later.

He found a few sad looking tea leaves in the bottom of a jar, but they would have to do. He returned to the stove and grabbed the first container he found - a chipped measuring cup. It would have to do. Mako bent down to look for a spoon.

“Whatchya doin’?” came a voice from behind him. He turned and saw Jame there, still wrapped up the blanket but on his own two feet. HIs face looked wane, though.

Mako growled and grabbed a spoon. “Sit.”

Jamie just walked over to him. “That tea? Didn’t think you drank tea.”

“I said, _ sit _ _._ ”

The skinny blighter just picked up the tea jar. “Low, huh? Next time I get a chance, I’ll -”

Another coughing fit, and James stumbled back against the table. Or he would have, if Mako hadn’t instinctively shot out an arm and caught him. Mako pulled him close, hand tight around Jamie’s skinny arm. He could barely feel it through the blanket. “Go. Sit.”

“M’dizzy now,” was all Jamie said and he looked it.

Mako grunted. He looked at the water, which was almost boiling. Close enough. With one hand, Mako emptied the tea leaves into the measuring cup, then splashed the water into it. He turned the oven off, then looked at Jamie only momentarily before hoisting the little guy up into one arm. It was easy - maybe too easy. Someone that tall should weigh more, he thought.

He expected Jamie to complain. However, Jamie just jolted in surprise, then rested his head against Mako’s chest. That’s how Mako knew something was really wrong with him.

Grabbing the tea, Mako brought Jamie not back to the couch, but towards the bedrooms. He found Jamie’s room locked; one hipcheck knocked that door wide open. Jamie didn’t say a word.

The room was a mess, and Roadho had t wade through a floor full of random shit before he made it to the bed. It was a nice one, a gift from a guy who had seemed really fond of Jamie a couple months back. Mako unceremoniously threw Jamie onto the bed, then handed him his tea. “Stay in here.”

He turned and made for the door. Mako had set one foot outside when Jamie’s weak voice met his ears.

“Stay with me?” he asked.

Mako didn’t want to turn around. He really didn’t want to. Yet he found his body turning anyways. Jamie was sitting there only a head, a hand, and a measuring cup of tea all poking out from a mass of patchwork blanket. His face was red. “No one...no one ever stays.”

With a sigh, Mako hauled himself back to the bed and sat on the end. It creaked in the way of a new bed. Jamie moved over and leaned against him, that singed hair tickling his arm. Mako put an arm around him, somehow finding a shoulder underneath all of that blanket. He stayed there, arm around Jamie, until Jamie had finished his tea and finally fallen into a deep slumber, still leaning against him. It made Mako feel...satisfied to help this sick kid.

He still wasn’t sure why.


End file.
